


Bathtime is Alpha Time

by Petersannoyingbeta



Series: The Taming of The Beta [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Bubble Bath, Desperation, Dubious Consent, F/M, Knotting, Non-Consensual, Urination, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petersannoyingbeta/pseuds/Petersannoyingbeta
Summary: Peter loves his bubble baths. Erica is a windup merchant. But Peter has a plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Universe where Peter is the Alpha and Erica is his favourite beta. Contains watersports. Last chance to turn back.

**Bath Time is Alpha Time.**

When it came to luxury, Peter always enjoyed a bath over a shower. Yes, showers were faster, and when he was in a hurry, it was best just to jump in, jump out of a shower, then see how slowly he could walk back to his room without a towel to annoy his pack mates. Well, it was his house after all.

But showers didn't compare to a long soak in a hot bath. Toes would curl as he sunk into a dangerously high water line, half obscured by lavender scented bubbles. Maybe a bath bomb or two to fizz up the water. The heat would melt the ache from his old wolfy bones and he would sprawl, languid, head resting just below the water line. Oh, the days he'd lost in that tub. Sheer bliss.

He didn't care if Derek laughed. Derek didn't buy the bubble bath. Derek didn't use it. Derek was sullen and moody most of the time and perhaps a bath would do the sour wolf a mountain of good. Maybe soak the grump out. Well, so long as he didn't use Peter's bath stuff to do it

Yes. Peter loved baths, but nowadays, he rarely got the chance to appreciate them. With the arrival of his beta, there was an added variable that meant the difference between long relaxing bath and five minutes of scalding pain. First the whining.

“Peter! I need the bathroom!”

Then the banging on the door.

“Peter! Did I leave my make up in there?”

Or the famous.

“Peter! Can I get in. I need to brush my teeth.”

And finally, Peter would climb out of the bath, snatch his towel from the railing and try not to beat Erica to death with her hairspray bottle.

It was always a matter of life and death the second his big toe touched the water. Never before, never after. Given half the chance, he wanted to drag it out, ease slowly, inch by inch into a smoothly ran ocean of pleasure. He would sniff the lavender fumes, lull himself into a soft bed of calm and relaxation. He would have the water flow meticulously measured for optimum heat. Then the little runt would come along and destroy his hand-crafted piece of paradise.

Well not to-fucking-day!

The time on his watch said 7.05. This was fifty-five minutes before Peter would draw his hour long bath. The same time every third evening or whenever he could. Though a morning shower was a necessity to maintain his glorious, wonderful hygiene standards and well-groomed appearance, the extra soak was for his soul.

Erica was in her room; the small box shaped spare bedroom halfway between his room and the upstairs bedroom of the refurnished Hale house. A great deal of money had been spent on making sure the house was as close to the original as possible but only so many of the bedrooms had survived the refurbishing. Erica's room was one of the few not already taken.

Naturally, Peter had the biggest one.

Peter had to make sure the set up was perfect, and that his Beta suspected nothing. He'd already been mildly cruel to her this evening by knocking over her CD pile with a accidental swipe of his hand. It was a complete accident brought on by her cheeky reply to a comment of his. Praying that she wasn't paying attention to the time, or at least, not enough to notice, he tiptoed on claw-tips to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He ran two taps. The cold one in the bath and the cold one in the sink, he wasn't going to waste hot water this close to personal Peter time. He uncapped the lavender bath oils and smeared a few drops along the lip of the room, as far under the door as he could reach. The scent would carry easily and Peter knew Erica's heightened senses would smell it easily.

He reached up into the linen shelf, in the closet, behind the boiler, and pulled down a towel. His towel. His lovely big red fluffy towel that he'd caught Erica use once. Once. Now she wouldn't touch it. Not even to wash it, which Peter didn't care about. His towel. Not hers, not Derek's. His. He popped it on the small heater in the room, as he always did, to warm it so that when he came out of the bath, his bum would be toasted by a warm towel too. As toasty as her turned hers when she'd touched it!

A flick of his wrist, and the radio was on. A small mint green mis-shapen bakelite box that had survived the Hale fire along with him. It was a kindred spirit and so he kept it, quite safely, on the window ledge of the large blue toned bathroom. It almost worked. It sang out some old country song, the western radio station the only one it could pick up, at the same loud volume every time as the volume and channel knobs had melted into some non-euclidian form and would no longer turn.

Preparation done. All he had to do was wait.

It took three songs before the familiar sound of knuckles hit the door. Peter smirked and stood up from his seat on the toilet seat cover and swanned over to the bath tub, turning off the taps and sitting down on the edge.

“What?” He snapped, trying to sound as put out as humanly possible. Erica's sweet tones fluttered through and he knew she'd taken the bait. Silly beta.

“I need the bathroom Peter, you have to get out.”

Every single time.

“No. Go away, Erica.” He shouted back. He had to keep it going long enough to not sound suspicious.

“Peter! I'm desperate. I'll pee on your carpet.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“I wouldn't.”

 _Hahaha. No. She wouldn't_. She was a pest and a bath ruin-er and he fairly suspected she had eaten all his favourite cereal too, but she didn't have the audacity to piss on his carpet. He tapped his fingers on the rim of the bath tub, taking his sweet time to decide. How best to ruin this girl.

She was an insolent pup and sorely in need of training. Whatever her mother had taught her before he'd bitten her, it was certainly not manners and certainly not considerate behaviour. Oh it was hard to retrain a puppy but Peter so loved a good challenge. Erica was nothing if not fucking challenging.

“Peterrrr.....” the whine through the door was strained and if Erica was putting it on it was a damned good job. He almost believed she was desperate. Maybe, having timed this “bath” an hour early, she really had to go. _Aww. Yeah, no._ Peter felt no sympathy at all for the nuisance beta. None at all.

Slowly he cricked his neck. Then his fingers, individually of course. Then his back. Then he stood up and pressed himself to the door.

He could hear the soft whimper coming through the door. Hah. She sounded pathetic, really laying it on thick. Well, he would make her “suffer” just a little longer.

On the other side of the door Erica was dancing in dangerous territory. Where had the time gone? She had estimated at least another hour before Peter's bath, plenty of time to go to the bathroom and relief herself. Maybe leave something in there to collect later after he had settled in his bath, that would serve him right for knocking over her cds. Especially her new Killers one. Well screw him. She was so going out to the shop tomorrow and buying a Justin Beiber cd to glue in his stereo.

Regardless of future plans, Erica needed to get in that bathroom right now. Already the tingling fullness was beginning to rise in warning betwixt her thighs and she hammered on the door harder than before.

“Peter, please. I really really need!”

She thumped harder, pressed her ear to the door. Was he moving? He wasn't moving.

“Fuck you, Peter. You're an arse.” She pressed her head against the door and let out the lightest of sobs. She crossed her legs and thumped her fist one more time. If she was lucky, she might have time to get to the downstairs bathroom in time.

Credit given, he'd been patient before, maybe she'd just cried wolf one time too many. Trying not to laugh at her hilarious pun was difficult but mandatory, lest she wet herself right there and then. She clenched her pelvic floor muscles tight.

Before she'd even managed to take a step, the click of the lock flickered passed her hearing and she burst into the room. She didn't care if Peter was there, if he was naked, or even if the whole freaking pack was in there naked with him. She needed to go! Bad.

Her gallop inside was interrupted by an arm that wrapped tight around her waist and slammed her back against the door, banging it shut. She winced, but somehow managed to maintain her dignity and keep it in.

“Peter....yo- you're not in the bath.”

“No. I'm not.” The sarcastic tone was unnecessary, Erica felt, as he pressed her up against the door and locked it. There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to fuck an apology out of her. That was okay, that wasn't a problem, never really had been, but by God, she needed to get passed him first. Then he could do whatever he wanted, for as long as he wanted.

“Let me go, I really really fucking need.” she whined, hands reaching up to push at his shoulders. He didn't budge.

“Well you should have thought about that and gone before.”

“I lost track of time.”

“No doubt. Just like last time, and the last time, and the last.”

“Peter, I swear to God. Alpha-mine. Wonderful amazing, gorgeous Alpha, please.”

“Keep going.”

“Uh. Spectacular. Powerful! Powerful Alpha! Merciful, kind, slightly psychotic, but most assuredly wonderful Alpha....how's that?”

“More.”

“I...and then you'll let me go?”

“No. I just want to hear more.”

“Fuck you Peter.... please...” She wriggled, clenching tightly and gasped. “I'm gonna wet myself....”

“Do it then.”

“No!” She snapped pushing against him again. Peter grabbed her wrists and pushed them up against the door above her, capturing her thin wrists in one hand. He'd had enough of the pushing. She rolled her hips, to no avail. Peter pressed forward and grinned, his face inches from hers. Erica pouted, trying to focus on holding it in and all the ways she could get her revenge later.

“I'm growing tired of you pushing all my buttons, Beta-mine. I really have been patient but enough is enough. Now I'm certainly you will find other ways to be a precocious little pest, but enough with the bath time nonsense. Do you understand?”

Erica nodded.

“Do you...understand?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Tsk. That tone, Erica. Really?”

Erica hissed out a breath, feeling him slip his fingers under her skirt and under her panties and she bucked, hard, in panic.

“Peter, don't. I swear to God.” She squealed. Her body thrashed away but his fingers cupped her sex. There was nowhere left to squirm. Peter's hand pushed up and Erica moaned.

“For someone desperate, you're holding it in so well. You're a good girl really, aren't you, Erica?”

“Fuck....you...” Her reply was a whimper, a breath of disgust and submission as his fingers wandered, danced along her folds and he flicked her. Sharp and sudden. Erica squealed and jerked. Her muscles threatened to give.

“No Erica. I'm going to fuck _you_. And you're going to enjoy it.”

He pulled his fingers away and sucked them, tasting her need. He felt the tiniest drip leak from her. The hormones were heavy on her. With a chuckle, he snatched her away from the door and spun her round before slamming her up against the door again, grip still tight about her wrists. She would learn the hard way he decided, grinding his hips against her and feeling himself harden. He paused for a second and watched, merely watched, as her legs began to shake. She sobbed on but the air was growing heady with both arousal, fear and her need to piss. Her nails clawed the door.

Peter grinned.

Oh there were so many ways to embarrass her now but for starters he decided to rip off her knickers. A single claw burst free and he slipped under her skirt again, pierced the thin fabric and ripped up the seam. The garment felt to pieces and then to the floor. Erica's legs folded over, tightly crossed. He tutted again.

“That's not how we do this.” He hissed in her ear, enjoying how she cringed at the hotness of his breath. Enjoying how her body curved in confusion. She didn't seem to know whether to lean into or away from his touch and that only pleased him more. The rest of his claws popped out and he ran them along Erica's now bare backside. He heard her feet pad the ground.

“Peter.... let me...let me pee! please, I'm bursting. I can't hold it any longer!”

The strain on Erica's bladder was reaching critical mass and she couldn't even reach down to hold herself. Her teeth sunk into her lip as his thumb found her opening and slid right into her heat. She cried out, her forehead leaning against the door.

“So Erica, what are you not to do when I'm bathing?”

“...bother you..”

“Mm?”

“Bother you!”

“And if you need the toilet when I'm in here?”

“G-go downstairs...” her voice dissolved into quiet sobs and Peter couldn't help but feel they must be shaking her body even more. He thrust his thumb inside her, curled it up, and pushed. Erica screamed.

“No! Don't!”

“Don't what?” Peter pushed a little harder. Up and round, squeezing the fleshy muscle inside her cunt.

“Don't push! Don't push! Don't push!” Her voice was growing in pitch and she continued to move from one foot to the other. Her breath came sharp and fast.

“Why not?”

“Hnng... you know why! Peter. Just... let me go, I need to go! I need to go! Fuck!”

The more frantic and needy she became, the wetter her hot little hole grew. Drooling and hot, Peter knew he would have to tie it sometime soon. He'd wreck her with his knot. Her claws ground into the panels of the door again and he could feel himself coming undone with the arousing sight of her squirming. She was at his mercy, if he chose to give it. He circled his thumb inside her, feeling her clench and relax in rapid desperation. Her eyes were closed in her concentration.

“Erica, I'm afraid that if you insist on damaging my door, I will have to make you suffer more. I wonder how much control you'll have with my cock up your slick little passage. I really think it would be hilarious to watch you lose control and piss yourself all over the bathroom door.” He stopped, waited for her reaction.

Her scent blossomed harder into the room again. Peter's eyebrows raised. His smirk grew.

“Really? You like the thought of that? Good.” His thumb popped out of her, and her legs quivered. She gasped again.

He pulled down his zip, popped open his button and kicked off his jeans. Erica had stopped moving. The scent of desperation was blooming from her and he knew she was feeling the sensation stronger than any human due to her werewolf senses. It was quite remarkable she'd held it this long.

“Let...me....pee.......” Erica's voice had gone so quiet he barely heard her plea. Her thighs were trembling. Peter knew she had to be reaching her limit. He had a short amount of time before his torture would cross a line that couldn't be returned from. A long whimpering cry stuttered from her lips. “P...l...ea...se...”

“No.”

He lifted up her skirt, exposing her ass and knelt forward, thrusting into her cunt slowly, admiring the soaking heat. Her thighs were slick, so slick, he wondered if he's missed it and she'd let loose already. But then he'd have scented it, and the only think he could smell was just fear, arousal and an overpowering aroma of excitement. Dirty girl.

“You are aware, I presume, that the female orgasm is intensified with a full bladder?”

“This isn't the time for trivia!” Erica wailed now. Her voice loud and shrill as he parted her folds, wet entrance opening with a lewd smack. She groaned. The pressure was beginning to hurt. If she could let out a teeny tiny little amount, perhaps the pain and the pressure might hurt. Just the tiniest dribble, maybe Peter would think it was her pussy juices. Yet, another part of her knew the second she relaxed, there would be no stopping. She took another deep breath. Oh God. She could practically feel his pulse throb inside, she was squeezing so hard.

A knock on the door broke his concentration.

“Erica, are you in there? You know Peter's gonna be going for his bath soon.”  
Erica hissed, turning to face Peter who smirked back. He thrusted hard inside her. Erica hips moved with him, trying to prevent any much force as possible. She bit her tongue.

“Y-yes. I'm-” Her voice squeaked, shrill. “I'll be a few minutes, come back later.”

“Well, I'm just giving you a heads up. He mentioned something about warning you.”

The sneaky devil. Erica glared at Peter as best she could. He thrusted again, and the glare turned to a mix of pleasure and pain.

“Okay!” She snapped through the door. “Just go away. I'll be out soon.”

“Oh...right. Whatever.”

She could sense the hurt in his voice, but this was much more important. She would apologise later. Besides, she was in the bathroom, surely that was reason to leave her alone?

Oh....

Erica grimaced in realisation.

“Peter...” she whimpered again, a final desperate plea.

“I know Erica. I know.”

“Pleeeeaaaase...”

She felt herself wrenched up, turned and he burst through the entrance of her. His grip around her wrists released. She grasped his arms. They held her thin frame easily, spreading her thighs, his cock pulsed hotly inside her.

“What's say we make this a trick shot Erica?”

He leant around her and lifted the toilet seat up. Erica's face, if it wasn't red before, seared with heat and embarrassment. Any second now.

“I'm not-”

“Any hits the floor Erica, I'll make you lick it up.”

“Eww!”

“Then focus.”

Oh she could hear the smirk in his voice. He thrust again and a long dirty groan spilled from her before she could stop it.

“I don't want to- AAHHH.” He twitched inside. “You're not! Dont! Peter, please stop. I swear. I'll be good. Don't knot me! Don't knot me! I'm going to wet myself! Don't! Do not! No! I mean-”

Erica screamed, feeling her Alpha's knot grow inside her. He didn't even try to stop it. The bulbous, swelling growth pushed and stretched, pressed and squeezed and even Peter was grunting at the delicious pressure. Erica felt tears prickle behind her eyes, and felt the piss dribble out of her.

At first it was barely a trickle and then Peter dropped her thighs and lifted her pubis forward with his fingers. The burst from inside her was volcanic. The thick yellow spray erupting and hitting the porcelain in a ripple akin to a bullseye. He stroked her clit hard and fast as she soaked his fingers. He didn't seem to care nor notice.

Erica's legs shook, her eyes scrunched tight, and her face hung in shame. Yet still the liquid flowed. Salty tears trickled down her face in relief as her Alpha's knot milked everything from her. It felt like an eternity passed as he chuckled over her, watching the piss pour free from between her tensed up folds, and she remained powerless, her muscles too exhausted to hold any longer.

It felt good. Sinfully good. Her body shook in rapturous release, her mouth gaped open. Her bladder was empty, and she felt slightly nauseous. Peter lifted her up and down in small movements around his cock and wrang her out. Her pussy quivered. She dripped but Peter held her over the bowl.

“Good girl, you didn't spill a drop...” He chuckled but Erica was shaking too hard to respond. She shook her head, unable to find words. His cock still rutted inside her. His fingers nipped and squeezed and then flew back and forth over the soaking, swollen nub and she didn't have the strength to clench. Her pussy fluttered out a hard climax that saw her eyes rolled back and a silent scream burst past her lips. Peter felt her shudder and came with, his knot pulsing his cream deep inside her.

However long Erica's stream of piss had lasted, Peter's explosion seemed twice as long and he sank his teeth into her neck, filling his Beta up. She had screamed so prettily, it only seemed fair to fill her up again and so he did. He came and he came until she couldn't hold any more and the gooey liquid dribbled out around him. He felt her swoon.

It served her right.

Knot holding fast, it would be another ten or twenty minutes before he could release her and go for that damned bath. Making sure Derek wasn't passing, Peter unlocked the door, and carried Erica back to her room. His cock was still securely locked within her, holding his cum inside.

He glanced at his watch. It blinked 8.25. Somehow, Erica had managed to hold it in for a whole hour.

Damnation. She'd still interrupted his bath-time.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bit to round it off. sappy. no smut. just silly.

  
  


  
  


His watch blinked 7.35pm. Today, Peter was going to have a bath in peace.

Three days on from the incident, Peter was going to try his luck. He peered into Derek's room as he passed it, watching to see where he was. There was no sign, perhaps he was out. Well. That was one variable dealt with.

The other, more problematic variables however, he couldn't see being a problem. He felt a smug sense of accomplishment knowing that he had nipped that little problem in the bud. Okay, so as far as punishments went, that was more enjoyable than most, but as long as it stopped her from interupting bath time again, it had served its purpose.

Peter chuckled to himself as he made his way along the corridor to the bathroom, his after-bath, terrycloth robe draped over one arm. A small yellow rubber duck, a new gift to himself for being so clever and quick to deal with the Erica issue, peered out of the pocket of it. He almost whistled as he peered into Erica's bedroom, and then didn't.

She, too, was not in her room. His eyes became slits of suspicion.

_Oh, she wouldn't dare..._

Peter walked brisquely to the bathroom door and cleared his throat. He heard the sound of someone humming inside and an irate growl fluttered out of him. There was no doubting who the high pitched warble was coming from.

"Erica. Open this door. Now."

"I'm in the ba-aath!" Came the singsong reply that, in Peter's opinion, might as well have just said, "come in and give me a russian necktie, I've always wanted one of those." She returned instantly to her humming. Something about hippies and drugs and he could hear she'd turned his precious little radio on. Oh, Erica was pushing it today.

He folded his arms and thrummed his fingers against the crook of his elbow.

"Erica,” he said in his sweetest, kindest, Alpha voice. “You have exactly twenty seconds to open this door and I promise, if you do it before I reach five, nothing bad will happen." Peter lied. She probably knew he was lying through his teeth but the chances were his little beta problem child wasn't even paying attention.

"I can hear you! I have my head under the water."

He heard a splash of water that sounded like she was trying to sink a ship, followed by a hiss. What exactly was going in- sniff sniff, was that his lavender oil? Why did he smell blown out candles? Okay, betas were going to hurt tonight.

"One." He growled, loud against the bathroom door.

"I still gotta rinse my hair, Peter! God, you're always in so much hurry. You need to relax a bit. Maybe try having-” A giggle. “-a bath!"

The sweetness of her voice was no indication of the agravating little devil she could be when she tried. Hell, even when she didn't try. Peter took a very deep breath so that he didn't destroy his precious bathroom door.

"Two."

"Peter, don't rush me, God."

There would have been a delightful irony to be found in the fact he was rushing her if he detected any sign of sincerity in Erica's voice. However, all he could ascertain was the irritating singsong cadence from her immature little throat which he longed to wrap his hands around. Not to mention the little squeaks of glee she was trying so hard to hold back. She was one hundred percent playing him.

"Three."

"Peter Hale, shame on you, I still have to shave my leggies, they don't stay all smoothy smooth by themselves don't you know."

Okay. Fuck four, fuck five and fuck everyone number after it.

"Erica." Peter roared, feral, at the bathroom door and everything inside went still. "You open this door right this second before I rip this entire house apart!"

“Wh-what happened to twenty?”

Peter snarled. Not just a growl, but a snarl that echoed through the very floorboards of the house, and Alpha or not, he was going to rip some heads apart. Inside the bathroom he heard chaotic splashing, the slap of feet on tile, and finally, the click of the bathroom door opening.

Peter glared at Erica as she came into view. Skin flush with the heat of the water, curly hair now wet and long, and dripping down her back. She was wrapped in nothing but a big, fluffy, red towel. Peter stiffened. His big, red, fluffy towel.

“Erica, what are you playing at?”

“Bathtime?”

“Hilarious. Now give me the towel.”

“I'm using it.”

“I don't care.” He raised his eyebrows, as though it should be obvious to her. “Now give.” He held his hand out, and when the young she-wolf was not forthcoming, he grabbed her by the throat and held her halfway up the wall. She choked and pawed at him with one hand. She held the towel by the other. His other hand still held the housecoat casually.

“I've been infinitely patient with you so far, in fact, I think I deserve a reward, so I'm going to get one; a bath in peace, now drop the towel, there's a good girl.”

Erica hacked out a reply as his thumb pressed harder against her windpipe. It was delicately so, but enough to restrict and she felt her head grow tight. She hacked, unable to swallow, and Peter sighed impatiently This was all just one big chore he had to endure.

After almost a minute, Erica's hands grew shaky, and the towel fluttered from her grip. Peter immediately released her and she slid to the floor instantly, naked and cold. Peter didn't even look at her, merely grabbed the towel and slid into the muggy warmth of the steamy bathroom. Erica whimpered and massaged her throat. This wasn't over.

Peter slipped into the girl's water, turning the hot faucet on and letting it warm and bubble before he stepped in. What was that? Oh, that was tension melting away, turning to bliss. Very good.

He give a tiny sigh of relief and sank up to his neck in the water, his toes the only thing besides his head peering out. Shame there weren't enough bubbles though. Plus his beta's scent was in the water. Ew.

He popped open the cap of lavender oil and poured it into the water, letting the scent soak into the entirity of the room. Mmm, much better.

A few seconds later he heard a knock on the door.

_Seriously?_

“WHAT?”

“You left your ducky outside!” Her simpering giggle through the door was enough to make him want to slam it open on her face. God, she was making him all violent!

“I don't care.” He didn't.

“Ducky's sad now....” He heard her squeak the toy.

“Erica, do you have a death wish? It might be hard to kill a werewolf but I assure you I will give it an outstanding attempt.”

“Says the man who stole my bath.”

“It's my turn.” He smirked, chuckling now. Yes, he had stolen her bath hadn't he? How very clever of him. That was almost a victory. Except it was his bathtime.

“Ducky wants in, Peter.”

Peter ignored her now and dunked his head under the water, wetting his hair and the bristles of his chin. When he rose again, she was staring at him, now dressed in her pyjamas. He jolted upright, sending a surge of water over the lip of the bathtub.

“Did I not lock the damned door?”

“Hey, I didn't realise it floats....”

“Dead bodies float too, Erica. Stop staring and give me my duck, then get out.”

“Hmm, nope.”

“I didn't realise you were a peeping tom beta-mine, alright stay if it pleases you, but another word and I'll drown you in twice-used bath water. I might even piss in it.”

Erica pulled a face and backed up, lobbing the duck at him.

“Whatever, here.”

“Hit a nerve there, did I?” Peter chuckled to himself. “Now come here.”

She did.

“Tell me, did you honestly think, that I would let you have a bath in peace during Peter's happy bathtime hour?” She didn't answer and Peter's arm whipped out, grabbed her by the collar on her fluffy, warm, pyjama top and pulled her closer. “Well?”

“...I-”

“No. You were just thinking, how can I annoy Peter because he humiliated me the other day. Unfortunately for you Erica, I am more than happy to make your embarrasment a regular thing. Shall we say, you piss me off, I make you pissed.” He grimaced, he was resorting to puns now. Good lord, he'd spent too long around her.

As if proof it was her fault, Erica sniggered at the word choice and then immediately fell silent, Peter snarled and pulled her off her feet, smashing her head under the water. Her arms flailed as her ribcage hit the edge of the bath and her knees hit the floor. Peter yawned and held her under till he stopped, grabbed the back of her neck and yanked her back out.

“Oh no Erica, your pyjamas are going to get all wet.”

“Arsehole.” Erica hissed, spluttering out water from nose, mouth and possibly ears. She coughed violently. “Don't tell me you've taken up a penchant for asphyxiation.”

Peter remained expressionless. Erica recoiled.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said with a look that Erica didn't like. “I'm afraid you've got me all tense. I'm not relaxed at all now.”

“Don't be afraid Peter, ha-”

He cut her off with another dunking this time hold her down for longer.

“It looks as though I just don't have the patience today Erica.”

Erica said nothing this time, merely coughed up the water in her lungs, wretched and glared at him as water dripped up her nose. Only Peter Hale could be threatening whilst naked in a bathtub.

“There we go, you know how to be quiet after all. Now, as I was saying, little wolf, I'm all stressed now. I wonder how we could remedy this?” From the look on Erica's face, Peter knew she longed to tell him to go fuck himself, but surely the tight grip around the base on her skull and fingers tightly laced through her hair would keep her right.

They did. Erica said nothing.

“I think it's about time you put that mouth to good use Erica.” He eyes her slyly as her eyes bugged. She jerked to stand up, but her tugged her back down. She yelped and whined.

“I'm sorry? Did I say you could go?”

“Peter, please... be reasonable.”

“Oh I am reasonable.”

“I'm not sucking you over the tub. That's just awkward.”

“After everything I do for you...”

“That's not...you're not guilt tripping me into fucking my throat!”

Peter smiled.

“I suppose not. Now go away and leave me in peace.”

He let go of her hair and she fled from the room.

Peter sighed and tried to sink back but the water had gone cold. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Twenty minutes later, Peter slunk into the kitchen, the large red towel coiled around his waist. He boiled the kettle and sought about making himself some coffee to soothe his irratation. Five sugars might help. He became vaguely aware of Erica, having redressed, and dried her hair lurking in the doorway. Her curls had newly sprung to life and his fist wanted to yank on them again.

“What are you up to beta?”

“Nothing...” she shook her head, merely watching him and he narrowed his eyes. She had a habit of lurking when “nothing” actually meant “something”. He willed her away and poured the boiling water into his cup.

“Is the television broken or something?”

“No.”

“Then go away.” He stirred the coffee before realisation hit him. Erica spent most of her time in the house these day. Perhaps she needed a bit more attention. She wasn't like him, she actually enjoyed other people.

“Come here.” He sighed, settling into a chair at the kitchen table. He put the coffee on the table and she climbed onto his lap, cuddling tight against him. He placed a hand around her and held her tight to him.

“You've stressed your Alpha out.” He watched as she wriggled her face away and pressed her cheek to his neck, nuzzling, mixing their scents together again. Peter knew their relationship might seem odd by human standards.

They weren't exactly dating, just seeing to each other's needs. Pack mentality, only theirs was a little more animalistic than most.

“Now I need you to stop interrupting my baths.” He spoke seriously now. “It's becoming a habit I do not enjoy, and it will make your Alpha mad.” Erica nodded, her fringe brushing back and forth along the underside of his chin. “And not the good mad. Let me enjoy my baths, and maybe, now and again, I'll let you interupt one. Just for fun. Think you can do that?”

Erica grinned and gave a nod.

“Good girl.”

~

 


	3. Chapter 3

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“I agree.”

Peter and Erica stood almost a metre apart, either side of the bathroom doorway. The pair's arms lay by their sides but their fingers twitched and curled, like two prnery cowfolks ready to draw their pistols. There were no sudden movements, and neither stepped forward nor back. It was a stalemate.

The bathroom door lay open, and the soft, sweet scent of lavender billowed into the hallway. Hot soapy water beckoned from within; a genuine warm relaxing experience that one would have to get passed the other for.

Erica grinned. Peter's face remained cool but there was a smirk hiding in the crease of his eyes.

Peter wore his terry cloth robe. A dapper navy blue. Erica wore a one-piece nightgown. Bright pink.

Both of them wanted this bath but only one would win the grand prize.

The tension in the hallway seemed to prickle like static. Erica cricked her neck. Peter's nostrils flared and the two did not blink.

“So.” said Erica.

“So....” Peter echoed.

“The tap's still running.”

“It is.”

“Better turn it off. Might overflow.” Erica tilted her head, scanning for weakness.

“Be my guest.” Peter's eyebrows rose.

Erica licked her lips, swallowed, leaned slightly to the right, like a cat readying to pounce. Peter barely moved, but now he was at a tilt, somewhat to his left.

The roar of water thundered from the bathroom.

The fingers twitched again and Peter could not help wondering if drowning her the other day might not have been effective enough. A part of him wished she would turn away for just a second, the slightest little loss of concentration. He would grab her again, display some dominance over that little beta. Break. Her. Down.

Erica, oddly enough, was thinking of similar things. If he turned, she would jump on his back and nibble on his ear till he relented. Hold him in a choke hold maybe. He would probably bite her, so she'd lock her arms under his chin before he had a chance. Maybe Peter wouldn't notice she was daydreaming. She let out a tiny growl, just to throw him off.

Peter responded with his own rumble of noise. Erica heard the creak of his bones and knew instantly he was going to turn. She followed suit, letting the change descend over her body, her snout and fangs grew, as did his. Her ears lengthened, as did his. Her hand muscles changed, turning into long paws with elongated digits. The claws pushed out like shiny hooks. As did his.

The pair crouched, almost at the same time, eyes still trained on the other. They steadied, hunched over like cats, albeit ten times worse, hackles raised and bristling.

The splatter of water slipping over the sides of the bathtub whipped the pair's eyes to the bathroom in alarm. Their ears flickered.

Erica recovered quicker, darting into the room and slamming the door in Peter's face. He was seconds behind her, pushed the door open again, and, turning back into his human form, wrenched around the two taps tightly. Erica's toes and long claws clacked against the wet tile. Peter slammed the door.

So there they were.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“I agree.”

Peter smirked now, hand on the bathroom door, keeping it firmly closed. Erica peered at the bath, too full for either of them, and let the bones in her settle again, returning to human. While it was good to stretch them now and again, - it stopped her from being so stiff and achy when the moon forced her to change – play fights were much more fun than whatever this happened to be. She bent down to pull the plug and relief the bath of some water when the snick of the lock caught her attention. Her head turned just in time to Peter's hand trailing up the curve of her spine. He pushed it down, the other sliding her nightie up so she remained bent over the tub, arms locked, one pressed against the tiled wall, the other slipped along it and gripped the tiny metal handle on the side of the bath.

She growled. Peter persisted, yanked down her panties and ran his thumb along her slit.

“Bad girl.” He purred with a chuckle and slapped her ass. Hard. Erica yelped.

“Stop that.”

“No.” Peter said, pleasantly enough and spanked again. The exact same spot. Erica growled again, wriggled, and her feet slipped on the wet floor. She gasped, holding back a scream but Peter grabbed her, his hand cupping under her waist to hold her up.

“Careful, Erica.” He said, listening to her ragged breath calm again. “Easy now, I got you.”

She might have mumbled thanks, but it was inaudible over the next smack against Erica's backside. She wriggled again, only not quite so recklessly, and a hollow groan fell out of her.

“That was for nearly hurting yourself and trying to escape me.” He whispered.

Her panties had slid further down her thighs, and with his spanking hand, he lifted her right leg below the knee. He shook the cotton free. He repeated the action with the left, placing them in the sink.

“I think that's enough. Put the plug back in.”

Erica leaned down again, and as she do so, Peter slipped two fingers inside her. Easily. Erica grit her teeth as sudden sensation taunted her. Suddenly his thumb pressed her clit,scraped a nail ever so lightly against it and she hissed. Peter noted she had stopped protesting.

“If I were facing the other way,” she hissed out. “Then I would claw your back to shreds.”

“Oh, would you?” Peter challenged, his fingers still teased and wiggled, and sent shivers of pleasure up her spine. She seemed more relaxed than usual. Stickier.

He hooked his fingers inside her, pressing along her insides, and waggled them. Teasingly. He felt her hips jerk against his thumb too. In earnest. He chuckled, pleased, but ripped them free. The resulting whimper of complaint made him twitch. Yes. This was what he wanted. She was finally submitting to him. He may no longer literally be an Alpha, but his beta called him so, and he would make the ladies scream one way or another at his “powers”.

“Yes.” She drove her claws into his thigh, piercing the fleshy muscle. Peter snarled, wretched her up and slammed her hard against the door. She gave a deep groan and the door rattled in its frame.

“Always so violent, Erica. You forget I can be violent too.” He stilled for a moment, eyes flashing blue, and sunk his fangs into her shoulder. He bit deep and Erica felt pain explode through her left side. She roared and slammed her claws back into the bathroom door. They stuck fast.

Peter's teeth remained there a few seconds, making his point, and her eyes scrunched tight. She could faintly smell his blood but when he ripped his fangs free, her own was stronger. He had made a point to shred flesh, she whined and slumped, claws still embedded in the door.

The scent of her own blood overwhelmed her and she dared not yank her claws free of the door lest she jarr her shoulder. A tiny sob came from her as she tried to push the injury out, force herself to heal.

Peter did nothing for a moment, observing her, as she tried to repair the damage. He could see the blood dripping down through the holes he had shredded in her nightgown, seeping into the fabric, and he wondered how many articles of clothing she had ruined by being a cheeky little brat to him.

By now, Erica knew better than to call him out for the bite. If he didn't have some wise-ass retort, he'd probably tear out the other shoulder to even things up. She didn't enjoy either of those ideas right now. The injury started to close, but Peter wasn't finished. He grabbed her by the waist and wrenched her claws free. Erica howled.

“What have I told you about the door, Erica?”

Erica snarled, but moved the bolt of the door across, opening the door and storming out. Peter raised his eyebrows. Really? After all that, she was going to give him the bathroom? Whatever. He finished the rest of his bathroom routine, dosing out the lavender oil, and procuring his big red fluffy towel.

All the while though, a tiny part of him, the part that could still feel guilt, twinged and, relenting, he stalked after her, peering into her bedroom. She lay face down on her bed, face smushed into the pillow. Sulking. He folded his arms, just watching. Peter was too proud a person to apologise, but he could tell one was in order. Instead,with a roll of his eyes, he made his way towards her, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her to her feet.

“Get off me Peter. Now.” She whined. “I'm done, I don't want your bath, I'm not playing anymore.”

“Oh were we playing? I thought you were just being a pest. As usual” Peter hauled harder, yanking her out of her room.

“Peter. Let go!” She insisted, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “I don't want your fucking bath. You fucking bit me!”

“Funny, I don't recall you complaining the last time I bit you.”

“Because you- Peter, just stop. For once, stop while you're ahead-” She squealed as he, tired of dragging, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. She slumped over his shoulder and resisted stabbing her claws into his spine.

“I could do that back scratching from here.” She hissed. Peter didn't reply and slapped her ass again. A warning. She growled, but by now he'd reached the bathroom, and he dropped her, fully clothed, into the bath tub full of water. The beta thrashed, throwing water across the room, and finally sat up, glaring at him, fringe dripping in her eyes.

“What the hell!?”

Peter looked like the six Christmas's he had missed had all come at once.

“Now I can say, with guarantee, that I make you wet.”

Was that a pun. Did he just make a mother-fucking pun. Erica pushed her fringe back and glared at him. He seemed not to care and dis-robed, draping the dressing gown over the toilet seat after ascertaining the lid was down.

“What are you-?”

“I'm going to have my bath. Is it wrong to bathe with my beta?” He pushed the door shut, re-latching it and Erica sighed. She didn't know if it was wrong or not, so many boundaries had been pushed and tested since she moved in so it wasn't really in her ability to judge this as any worse or better. She shifted, lifted her sodden nightgown and lifting it off, she wrang it out and then tossed it to the floor where it made a wet smack on the tiles. She did the same with her bra, her smallish breasts bouncing lightly as they were freed.

Peter seemed pleased at her decision as he slipped into the water behind her and pulled her close to him. She could feel him harden beneath her ass as she was pulled onto his lap.

While not exactly a huge two-person tub, the bath was large enough for them to fit snugly together, and the water level reached halfway up Erica's breasts with the two of them in it, keeping them toasty in the water.

She reached forward for the soap but Peter's hands held around her waist. She flinched as one reached up and poked the still remaining mark on her shoulder. The bruising still remained.

She heard his teeth grit together.

“..Sorry...”

Erica's eyes widened but she didn't say anything. That had taken a lot and it wasn't to be taken lightly. She licked her lips, swallowed and nodded. Making a big deal of it would embarrass him, making him more likely to bite again. A tiny smile flickered on her face. That was a victory for her and she appreciated it.

“I can't reach the soap.” She pointed out, turning to look at him with a mock confused face, her arm outstretched, wiggled, and Peter smirked.

“Good.” He chuckled, and buried his face into her wet hair. Erica waved her arm harder, her fingertips brushed the soap, and then sent it flying off the edge of tub. Peter gave a snort and yanked her closer again. She felt his length slip along the smooth wet skin between her legs and twitch. She squirmed. Deliberately.

“Are we actually going to bathe?” She asked, scepticism thick in her voice. Peter didn't reply. Instead his hands went to her breasts and pinched her nipples between his fingers. They were cold against the heat from the bathwater. Pink and darkening, they grew hard between his digits sparks of pleasure wormed out all the way to her toes. She curled them.

Erica let out a purr of noise.

“Or are you going to make even the bath dirty?”

“What can I say Erica? A wolf has needs.” He was growing harder, and Erica, never one not to enjoy such things, exacerbated it, rocking her hips so that she stroked the hardening organ as she slid back and forth.

“Needs? Really? Bathing and Sexing don't tend to work when put together.”

“Erica. Honestly. I bathe to relax. If I have to do other things to maintain that relaxation then, I suppose some needs must take a back seat to others.”

Erica giggled, and gave a tiny expulsion of air as the angle slipped away from her. He popped inside. It hurt for a second, but the fullness took over. Peter took gave a growl as the tight warmth moulded around his cock.

For a few moments, they remained that way; Peter teasing her nipples with his fingers as she clenched around him, squeezing gently every time a spark of pleasure rippled through her and fulminated deep below. She felt his tongue along the side of her neck, and the occasional nip of teeth. No....fangs.

Her hands gripped the handles on the side of the bathtub and her legs draped over his. For the most part her eyes were closed, but on occasion she peered down at his large hands as he pinched her between thumb and forefinger.

“Let me turn around.”

“No.”

“If I turn-”

“If you turn, you'll get sappy, and try to kiss me, and honestly Erica, you know that's a bad idea.”

“True... so you just want me to sit here while you fondle me.”

“Yes. Let me play with them.”

Erica rolled her eyes, but she was interrupted by his lips at her ears. She mewled out a gasp. A pleasured filled growl escaped Peter.

“Mmm.”

Erica took the hint, using the handle bars to lift herself the tiniest fraction and fuck herself on the length of him.

Peter leant back, enjoying this kind of power-shift. He let her tire herself out. He watched through lazy, half lidded eyes as her skin flushed from the hot soak and her excitement. Her breasts bobbed on the surface of the water. She was always so vocal, wasn't she? Even now, her voice trilled with every long deep stroke, her breath catching at the end. The soft sweetness of her voice was glorious in his ears. He was making that happen. Him.

He relaxed a little more, let his knot swell by a fraction, fighting it only the tiniest amount and letting it stretch the rim of her opening. She gave a squeal that brought another smirk to his face.

“Keep going.” He urged. His hands had rested on her hips and they gripped tight, pulling her up and down and around the growing bulb of flesh. God, that was tight. He felt her grip him from inside.

“Starting to hurt, Alpha!” She intoned, followed by a heady moan. He reached down and plucked her clit and she squealed. Long, breathy, and Peter felt a glorious warmth spread through him at the noise.

“Yes, I hope so. You're so sweet when you're in pain.” He snarled, and the knot pulsed wider. Still not fully inside, Erica felt the stretch begin to burn and shuddered, squealing harder. He felt her walls moisten even more.

“Oh God... I can't, Peter, push it in!” Her arms were shaking.

He would have, if more for his benefit than hers, but the tight pressure and the warble of her in his ears was intoxicating. The urge to fuck her hard gripped him stronger than her little opening. His head lolled back and he felt her wolf bristle. Her hand moved to his thigh again, unsure whether to push him out or pull him inside. Her confusion was the best part.

“Peter plea-aaaaase.” Erica sobbed, and he could smell the fear in her now. It was a fear mixed with excitement. The kind she always had when he was being that little bit cruel during sex. He pinched her clit.

“Be honest with me beta, you love it, don't you?” He leant forward, the water sloshing over the side. Erica's toes curled.

“You love the feeling of your Alpha inside. Fucking you. Stretching your little cunt out. If my knot widened you enough, no mere man would ever be enough. You're mine, Erica. All mine.”

Erica tensed. She knew what he was going to do seconds before he did.

His fingers and claws dug into her waist....

...and he rammed in deep.

There was an inaudible pop. h low feral grunt escaped her as she was suddenly full of his length and his knot. It stretched every inch of her and more, leaving her with an unbearable fullness that pushed hard against her cervix. Her legs curled up and Peter arched, pulling her backward so they lay flat. His legs moved, reaching out of the tub and hanging over the side. He used to them as leverage to piston his hips harder, tiny hard pulses and pushes and Erica sunk her teeth into her lip, arching her back and crying out. The water level lapped at her breasts.

Still she gripped the handles. But her arms were limp. Her hair was a mess, drying at odd angles. Her mascara ran down her eyes, but she was contented, full, and so close to the edge...

Peter wasn't paying attention. Nor was Erica.

He felt her walls contract, tight, fluttering as she reached down and rubbed herself. His toes curled too and his knot swelled to complete fullness. Squeezing every last inch of her. She screamed, as once again his knot filled her too far. He burst inside her as she came, soaking every inch of her. Pulsing deep. But he wasn't getting out till he was done. None of them were.

Erica recovered first, while Peter was still jerking, still twitching and releasing inside her. He felt every muscle in her go limp. As did his own, and they harmonised in a rumble of contentment.

“Fuck.” Erica sighed.

“Mmm.” Peter agreed.

“No....” Erica protested weakly. She made a tiny effort to move, but her muscles refused. Her arms weak from earlier. Peter raised an eyebrow. Even if she could move, she was tightly secured on his knot. It was still swollen inside her.

“Knot.” He reminded her. Monosyllabic. He was a very relaxed wolf.

“No.” She insisted, another sigh spilling out. “Toilet. Quick. Too full.”

Peter's eyes went wide. Fuck. His muscles refused him for a second before he pushed himself up and in doing so, crushed Erica into a sitting position. She squealed.

“No!”

Peter groaned as he felt her walls tighten in fear. He pinched her nipples again. She held her breath.

“Do it.”

“Peter, I c-”

“Do it.” His fingers left her breasts. They trailed down her sides. One hand left her to pull the plug.

the water heated up around him. He finally snatched the plug out of the tub and tried to remind himself he was trying to relax and not kill Erica. Erica gave a tiny rattling sob and Peter flopped back again. Well the damage was done, wasn't it?

She was still shaking. Did she think he was going to kill her? Or had she never peed in the bath as a kid before? Her embarrassment was oddly amusing; yet again. He rolled his eyes as his knot began to deflate.

“Shut up Erica.” He said, and wound his finger through a damp blonde curl and pulled it teasingly. Then he added.

“Shower.”

 

 


End file.
